


With Morning Comes

by offwithmyhead



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Fluff, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Slight reference to episode 1x04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3811843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwithmyhead/pseuds/offwithmyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor just needs Oliver to make everything right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Morning Comes

With sleep comes the monsters; monsters that he temporarily laid down to rest when the sun was up. At night they are relentless, awake and charge at him anew. Sometimes they come in the form of a pair of lifeless eyes that stare at him eerily from the darkness, sometimes a cracked skull and its gory insides paint gruesome masterpieces on the bedroom ceiling.

Sometimes shadows talk, _who would you be doing on a Wednesday night, huh, would you make Oliver cry again, you murderer_ , and they taunt and claw and drag and pull at his arms and grabs onto his legs and he can't breathe when the darkness envelops him like this- _come with me jump down down join me kiss me do me killmekillmekillme_ , and surrender seems like the best option until -

_Connor. Connor, wake up._

With the mornings come cool fingertips that brush the sweat off his brow, smooth palms that travel across the expanse of his burning skin. Gentle hands rub comforting circles up and down his arms, sweeping motions that soothes him and keeps the manic urge to run at bay. Like a man resurfacing for air, Connor gulps in a panicked breath.

Another breath.

One more deep breath.

_Connor, shhhh. Deep breaths, that's it._

A body molds itself to his back, leg thrown over his hip and thigh, anchors that keeps him rooted and the terrifying grip the darkness has on him loosens - _Connor. I’m here_.

With the mornings come a voice, so gentle and comforting, so familiar and safe and reminds him so much of home, of love, of silly giggles over shared cups of coffee, of filthy promises pressed into skin, of desperate confessions and shy declarations. Connor whimpers, the possibility of losing something that precious and rare cuts so sharp and neat through his being, the pain so tangible and so acute he groans aloud, feeling the prickle of hot tears. He kicks out, struggles, pulls away, he needs to get back to -

_O-Oliver?_

_Shh, you’re safe. Baby, you’re safe with me. Come here, shh, shh._

With the mornings come lips and kisses that chase the darkness and pulls him from the brink. The shadows skulk away into their corners, lurking and waiting for him, but for now, at least for now, he feels safe. Countless reverent kisses are pressed to his damp skin, so much comfort offered and found in the body wrapped around his, a mantra whispered urgently against his ear -

_Come back to me, Connor. Come back. Wake up, baby, it's just a nightmare. It's not real. Wake up. I love you._

**_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou._ **

 

 

 

Connor wakes to fingers carding through his hair, gentle scrapes of fingernails that start at his temple, over the slope of his skull and ends at his nape.

"Mm, nice," he mumbles groggily. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and finally focuses on Oliver, propped up on his elbow looking down at him. There's sleep lines across one cheek, and his hair is flat against one side of his head. The sun that's slipped through the blinds throw golden slits of light across his face and Connor thinks Oliver's never looked this beautiful.

"Hello," Oliver whispers, and smiles a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Connor grabs him by the neck and pulls him down, peppering closed-mouth kisses to his face, willing the worried frown and the down-turned mouth to disappear.

"I'm fine, it's fine, Oliver," he murmurs, cupping Oliver's jaw and presses their foreheads together. They've had this argument many times before - the slight dent in Oliver's wall is proof to the ferocity of their fights, and their desire for each other - and they're still dealing with each other's pasts and scars and issues, but right now, right now all Connor wants is to hold Oliver and forget the guilt and nightmares.

"Connor, you don't have to -"

 _Don't try to protect me! I don't fucking need protection, Connor. I just want you to be truthful with what you're going through and let me the fuck in_!

"I know. I know." Connor nods, and pulls away. "I promise. Just, just give me time. Let me d-deal with it." 

Oliver gazes down at him, and Connor can see the million doubts and fear playing in his eyes, but Oliver seems to understand; he just nods and lifts the sheets, drapes himself over Connor and hides his face into the other's neck.

"Whatever you need. Just tell me whatever you need," he sniffles into Connor's shoulder, kissing the spot beneath Connor's ear. 

Connor smiles, cuddles the other man close.

"You. Just you."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on a roll, and I hope after I post this I can study over the weekend with no Coliver haunting my thoughts D:


End file.
